


let my mouth taste like carrion, not yours

by jaggedwolf



Category: The Strange Case of Starship Iris (Podcast)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/F, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-01 22:29:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20265526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaggedwolf/pseuds/jaggedwolf
Summary: With the rest of the crew elsewhere, Arkady and Sana get a rare night to themselves. Unfortunately, someone from their past shows up. An awkward conversation ensues.





	let my mouth taste like carrion, not yours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reconditarmonia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reconditarmonia/gifts).

Music crackles through speakers that have seen better days. The sound fills the bar even at its low volume, and Arkady remembers why they’ve always found space here. Lots of better places to frequent on Vordan these days. The streets had been littered with half-constructed buildings on their way in. According to Brian’s usual listing of planetary fun facts, there’s been a sudden burst of investment.

Arkady swirls her glass a couple of times before draining it of the remaining dregs of liquor, blanching at the taste. Her back presses against the wall of the booth they’re sitting in. She eyes the other customers. No outstanding citizens of the IGR to be found here, but they seem satisfied enough with their own conversations. 

The bar has very little to recommend itself. Watered down alcohol. Potential threats. Not exactly structurally sound, either. The table wobbles when she sets her glass down. It wobbled more when she first took her seat.

Company’s not too bad, though.

“How many?” asks Sana from across the table. Her eyes go from Arkady to the rest of the bar.

“Beyond the three like me?” replies Arkady, herself openly armed. “At least two with hidden ones. Maybe more, I didn’t get a good look at that pair that just entered.” She squints across the bar.

“So you’re saying we’re not in imminent danger.” Sana raises her eyebrows. 

“You never know, Sana.”

Sana’s hand tugs on Arkady’s, the two loosely intertwined under the table. “I doubt we’re even at risk of alcohol poisoning.”

“You noticed that too. Was it always this bad?” Arkady’s attention reduces to the booth they sit in. Sana’s right. Rough as the bar looks, they’ve never faced real danger here. 

Sana frowns. “I don’t know, but it does make me feel better about our moonshine.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Arkady glances at her empty glass. “Or not.”

Sana offers to get them more. Before she heads to the bar, she presses a kiss to Arkady’s lips. More than a year has passed since they first tumbled into bed together, since the awkward and sometimes fraught conversations that followed, since they decided it was time to tell the rest of the crew about them. And yet, something seizes Arkady’s heart at the simple kiss, at it happening where they are.

Her eyes trace the lines of a neon sign. One of the earliest arguments in their then new relationship had been who could know. Who should know. Arkady’s opinion? As few people as possible. Any information out there could be a liability, could give other people leverage. Neither of them lacked for enemies. 

Her voice slow, Sana had pointed out that anyone who knew them already knew how important they were to each other. Knowing this additional facet of their relationship hardly offered anything new. Arkady winces at both the memory and the fact of her own transparency in that regard. She keeps an eye out as she waits for Sana anyway. Not much else to do. 

At first, the other patrons appear as uninteresting and as uninterested as they were the last time she looked. Then a woman on the opposite side of the room walks directly towards Arkady’s booth. The dim lights of the bar, one of them flickering, make it impossible for Arkady to get a look at the woman’s face. Her hand drops to hover over her leg holster. Sana’s talking to the bartender, but the still-striding woman seems wholly focused on Arkady.

The woman’s four steps away when Arkady recognizes her.

It’s not every day Arkady runs into one of her siblings. In fact, it’s never, given the life she leads. Not the illegality part - there’s plenty of that going around in her family tree - but the hopping from planet to planet part. Neither characteristic describes Laila.

In some ways she is the same as Arkady remembers. The mass of thin black hair falling past her shoulders, the waifish frame, that careful way of walking. Yet the years that have passed are evident in her face and somehow, Arkady expects her to be taller. When Laila arrives at the booth, her expression is wry, her shadow falling over the table.

“Hey, kid,” says Laila. She easily slides into the empty side of the booth. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“I could say the same.” Arkady’s eyes narrow. “I thought you were on Windsor.” 

Laila shrugs. “I was. That contract ended, and I got posted here. I’m sure you saw all that construction. Didn’t see the point in updating everyone. You know how Simone gets.”

“Yeah.” Arkady snorts. “You’d have been up to your ears in statistics on the dangers of starship travel.” She continues, “Though, this doesn’t really strike me as your kind of place for a night out.”

“Guy I’m seeing suggested it for tonight...and then he bailed. I’d already arranged for a babysitter, so I figured I’d stay.” Laila sighs. “Don’t think that one’s going to last.” Smiling and nodding her head towards the bar, she says, “Looks like you’re having better luck in that department.”

Arkady hunches her shoulders. “Maybe.”

“And it looks like your attitude about it hasn’t improved any.”

“What about Arkady's attitude?” asks Sana, arriving at the table with their drinks. There’s a question in her eyes. Arkady shakes her head slightly. No, no threat here. 

“Nothing,” replies Laila. She mutters to herself, “Right. Arkady.”

Arkady steps out temporarily to let Sana slide into their side of the booth. Once she’s seated again, she supposes that introductions are in order. “Sana, Laila. One of my sisters.”

“Older. By seven years,” adds Laila, like that’s important or non-obvious.

“Pleasure to meet you.” Sana nods. “I don’t know what I or the crew would do without Arkady.”

Arkady presses on before Sana can continue. Even more of a danger when Sana has a drink in her. “Laila, Sana. Captain of our ship and, uh, I mean, you know the other stuff.” Arkady swallows a good third of her drink. 

“Good to meet yo-” Laila frowns for a second and she stares at Sana, her eyes wide. “Holy shit. You’re-”

“How about we don’t say that name in this very public bar,” interrupts Arkady through gritted teeth.

“I would appreciate that.” Sana sips her drink, unruffled.

“Sure,” Laila says distractedly. She looks at Arkady, her smile widening, her voice incredulous. “Kid. You and her?”

“What about it?” grumbles Arkady. 

There’s too much history here to figure out the tenor of Laila’s reaction. There’s a dozen objections she could have. Arkady isn’t interested in subjecting Sana to any of them. 

“Nothing.” Laila idly plays with her cocktail stick. “You just owe me a day’s worth of chores. With fourteen years’ interest. Wasn’t that the agreement if I was correct in guessing your very obvious crush?”

Arkady groans, and when she lifts her head off the table, she finds Sana grinning. Sana’s leaning back against the booth wall, content to silently watch. Her face is half in shadow. Even so, her dimples are blindingly obvious. Warmth floods Arkady’s chest. Guess the bar’s poor excuse for alcohol is finally hitting her. 

“Laila...” Arkady’s voice slips way too close to a whine. Siblings, bunch of busybodies. More trouble than they’re worth. “How about I don’t tell the family you’ve moved, and you don’t tell them about this?”

Laila looks thoughtful for a far-too long second. “Deal.”

“I have to admit some curiosity here” says Sana, bumping Arkady’s shoulder with her own. “But I suppose a deal’s a deal.”

“Aren’t you in the business of negotiation, Captain?” asks Laila. “Our deal didn’t say anything about telling _you_.” 

Arkady glares at her. 

Laila relents. “I’m sure you have your own ways with her.”

“How’re the kids?” tries Arkady. Better to interrupt any possibility of Sana and Laila teaming up against her.

Laila’s whole face brightens at that. She shows them photos of the twins. They have the same sharp nose as Laila, and something unfurls in Arkady at that, at the girls’ free smiles, at the neatness and cleanliness of their clothes. They’re doing alright. Of course they are, with Laila looking after them. 

The three of them spend a good while discussing the kids - their current obsessions, how they’re adjusting to the move, what their schools are like. By the end of it, the bar’s emptier and Laila’s finished her drink. Sana’s arm is loose around Arkady’s shoulder, Arkady leaning into the embrace.

“Oh, look at the time.” Laila stands up. “I’ve got to head out.” She looks at Arkady and Sana in turn. “Good to run into you, kid. And it was nice to meet you, Sana, in better circumstances.”

“You know…” Arkady pauses. This had gone better than expected. It’s the thing she ought to say. It’s what a normal aunt would say, she thinks. “We’re around the area for a few more days. Some of the crew’s visiting a friend. Maybe I could come by, say hi to the kids?”

Her sister’s face freezes. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“Yeah.” Arkady’s gaze drops to the table. “Should have guessed.” 

Laila sounds sympathetic. “Kid, there are so many messed up things we grew up with as our normal. I don’t want any of that to touch them.”

“What?” There’s steel to Sana’s voice, and in her peripheral vision, Arkady sees the beer bottle jerk away from her mouth. “What does that have to do with Arkady meeting her nieces?”

Laila doesn’t say anything, merely looks at the gun holstered on Arkady’s hip. Arkady should let her leave. Arkady’s experienced too much good fortune recently, and raising her hopes is far too easy when Sana’s around. “These aren’t fused to my body. I can take them off to talk to two eight-year olds.”

“Nine. They’re nine.” says Laila. There’s a distant look in her eyes. “We...didn’t part on the best of terms. And while I regret my tone, I don’t regret the point of what I said.”

That hit Arkady in the gut. They’d yelled at each so much those few days before Arkady shipped out, her fifteen, Laila twenty-three. Their parents had given up on intervening, their hands full with the rest of their siblings, none as stubborn in their opinions as Arkady and Laila. Arkady doesn’t want to re-do that argument. The words tumble out of her mouth anyway. “What was I supposed to do? Wait for the Mandate to draft me in a couple of years anyway?” 

“You didn’t know that for sure. You were so smart. You are so smart. You chose to enlist when you didn’t have to. And even now, after the war, this-” Laila gestures towards Arkady. The same stricken expression from all those years ago. “This doesn’t have to be you.”

“Little late for that,” muttered Arkady. She feels the steadily growing tension of Sana’s body. At which part of this conversation, she doesn’t know.

“I wish I knew for a fact it wasn’t you,” says Laila, and not for the first time, Arkady wishes speechifying didn’t run in the family. Laila’s gaze shifts to Sana. “I hope to god you’re not another excuse for her to get her hands dirty.”

“Excuse me.” Sana’s tone is flat.

Arkady scowls at her sister. “Don’t-”

“Bring her into this?” Laila scoffs, her face imperious, and there’s the sister Arkady remembers. “Why not? She brought you into the war.”’

“The Landers voted as a group.” Sana’s reply is measured. “We reached out as far across the planet as we could to build consensus.”

“And screw the rest of us, right?” Laila half-smiles.

Arkady’s hand clenches around her glass. The half-working speakers have switched from a broken mellow guitar tune to an equally broken upbeat pop track. The lyrics would be nonsense even if words weren’t lost to static, and yet Arkady wishes she could hear the whole song as it was recorded. 

“Many people made difficult choices on Cresswin and during the war. I’m sure all of us owe our lives to some of them.” Sana’s hand grips Arkady’s knee under the table, her thumb rubbing reassuringly. More sharply, she says, “I owe mine to Arkady. She’s saved us more times than I can count, and-”

Arkady rests her hand on Sana’s. Sana quietens. It’s one thing for Sana to defend her to people who’ve never met her, to new crew members. That’s necessary. That’s practical. That’s reasonable. It’s another thing altogether to defend her to Arkady’s sister, to someone who’s witnessed more of Arkady’s life than Sana has. 

To Laila, who spent more time on Cresswin than Arkady and Sana combined. 

“I get it.” Arkady jokes. Her voice is ragged against her will. “Not really child-appropriate here.” 

A pair of beeps emit from Laila’s bag. “Sorry, I really have to go,” Laila’s voice is rushed. The words slip out of her mouth as she turns away. “Love you, kid.”

“You too,” Arkady says hollowly. She watches the loose mass of Laila’s hair bounce behind her as she speeds towards the exit. It would take no great effort to use that hair against her in a fight. So easily gripped. Arkady wants to tell her to tie it up.

An entire thought process that proves Laila’s point. Arkady gulps down the rest of her drink. 

“What do you need?” asks Sana, subdued. “Do you want to head back to the ship?”

Arkady squints at her. One day, she’d teach Sana to have a good poker face. A great one. Seemed like the kind of skill the captain of a smuggling ship ought to have. “Give it a few more minutes. You can finish your drink, my sister can get the hell away from here. But yeah, wouldn’t mind heading back to the good old _Iris._”

The three steps past the _Iris’s _airlock is all the time Arkady needs to check the ship’s security logs for anomalies. There aren’t any. On the fourth step, she pivots and surprises Sana with a kiss, smiling into it as she feels Sana step back against the wall. Sana’s hands easily slide under Arkady’s shirt, her hands warm against Arkady’s skin. 

“Did you-” asks Sana, breaking the kiss.

“Already checked,” replies Arkady. “No one’s been in since we left.”

Sana hums in response. She doesn’t ask Arkady about her sister, or Cresswin, or the war. Good. Laila didn’t get to ruin this. Sana pulls Arkady closer to continue the kiss, and it’s all too easy for Arkady to slip a knee between Sana’s legs, a convenient source of pressure that makes her let out a small gasp. It’s been far too long, Arkady thinks, but their bodies fall together in a well-worn pattern. 

Hard to tell how long they spend against that corridor wall. Arkady moves on to eager kisses down Sana’s neck. Sana’s hands rise higher, thumbs slipping under Arkady’ bra as her shirt rides up. The cool air of the temperature reg flows past Arkady’s exposed skin.

“As much as I’m enjoying this, I think my shoulders need an actual bed now,” says Sana ruefully. 

Arkady smirks, bringing her head back up to rest her chin on Sana’s shoulder. “What, we’re not taking up Krejjh’s open offer for us to desecrate the cockpit while we have the entire ship to ourselves?”

Sana lets out a huff of laughter that reverberates through Arkady’s body. In Sana’s ear, Arkady continues, “Really, Captain. You mean you haven’t thought about me going down on you while you’re in the pilot’s seat?”

Arkady swears she can feel the frown Sana makes in response. “Arkady. There’s barely enough space in front of it as is, and your knees would hurt something awful-”

“That’s half the fun,” interrupts Arkady playfully. 

Sana shakes her head. “Bed.” 

Arkady’s hands drop to Sana’s waist. “Want to-?”

“If you think you can manage,” demurs Sana. Her arms sling around Arkady’s neck.

“Yeah, I can manage. Ship’s not that big.” Arkady lifts Sana up, hands sliding under her ass once she feels Sana’s thighs settle on either side of her waist. Sana is all around her, pressure and heat even through clothing. Arkady navigates them to the captain’s cabin with no incident. It’s fun showing off like this for Sana, whose fingers dig into her arms and kisses grow more intense.

Once inside the room, it takes them a frustratingly long time to get rid of their jackets and boots and pants and various accoutrements, made longer by the kisses in between. A wrench falls out of one of Sana’s many pockets. When Arkady quirks an eyebrow at Sana at that (what, was she going to fix that bar single-handedly?), Sana merely glances at the knife Arkady had unstrapped from her left calf. Fine, fair enough. 

As soon as the last weapon’s off her, Arkady is pulled into bed by Sana. She wonders what Sana thinks of the bed, if it’s not only Arkady’s body that expects nothing more than an old mattress on the floor and is surprised every night. 

Question for another time, a time when they’re not making out against each other, a time when Arkady can’t already feel on her thigh how wet Sana is. Once Sana’s shirt and bra are off, Arkady takes her time mouthing at her breasts, tongue occasionally slipping out to tease a nipple. 

Little gasps and sighs escape Sana as Arkady works. Sana’s hand is on the back of Arkady’s head. It doesn’t grip. It doesn’t attempt to shift the direction of Arkady’s attentions, though that might have its own appeal. As always, the hand merely rests there.

Arkady moves down to peppering kisses across Sana’s stomach. She takes her time here, until-

“Enough teasing.” Sana’s voice is out of breath. 

A spike of pleasure runs through Arkady at the very mild impatience in Sana’s tone, and if that’s messed up, it’s one of the less messed up things about her. “Who says I was teasing?” Sana’s fingers reflexively scrabble in response. 

Arkady scrapes her teeth through cloth against Sana’s clit, watching Sana’s hips jerk, before she peels off that last piece of clothing. She kisses her way up Sana’s thighs, neither lingering at nor skipping past the large burn scar that takes up a chunk of the right one. Factory accident, Sana had said. After Cresswin. Before the _Rumor_. 

As she approaches her destination, she feels Sana sit upright. Arkady shoots a glance up. Sana’s pupils are dilated, her braid starting to come undone behind her, her chest rising and falling with every breath she takes. Sana is thinking of nothing other than this moment they’re in, Arkady’s certain. She’s always been good at that. Living in the present. Might as well make it worth her while.

Her mouth descends to find Sana hot and wet, her tongue sliding through folds before finding Sana’s clit and focusing her attention there. Sana’s hand rests on her head once more. The patience and restraint in those fingers are almost tangible against Arkady’s scalp. Arkady flicks her tongue faster. Reading Sana’s body is second-nature to her. _Like pulling out a weapon or lying through your teeth_, says a voice in her head. She ignores it. Her brain can save the brooding for some other time.

Sana’s breaths come quicker and louder, her heels rise and come to rest on Arkady’s upper back, a delicious, grounding pressure. Almost as if Sana knows she needs it. But the rhythm of hips against Arkady’s mouth and clenched fingers against Arkady’s head tell her that Sana’s thinking of nothing other than her own pleasure right now. That’s everything. Addictive in its own right, being responsible for that. A few more strokes, and then she sucks tight. Would have been too direct for Arkady herself, but it’s perfect for Sana, who comes with a groan and her hips off the bed, Arkady’s hands supporting her as she sinks back into the mattress. 

Arkady eases off. Her tongue languidly glides lower. Maybe she could work Sana up for another round. Sana’s hand falls from Arkady’s head to her shoulder, tugging her up, and so up Arkady goes. When they’re face-to-face, Arkady smirks at Sana, wiping off her mouth with the back of her hand. “Can we kick everyone else off the ship more often?”

Sana’s eyes crinkle. “We didn’t need the whole ship for that.”

“I guess.” Arkady rolls out her neck. “But I guarantee you if they were around we’d have been interrupted with some ship catastrophe before I even took off a sock. Because that’s happened. Multiple times.”

“You’re not wrong.” Sana’s hands come to rest on Arkady’s hips, guiding the both of them back till Sana’s back was against the wall. She pulls Arkady into a long, unhurried kiss. Arkady’s body moves of its own accord, straddling Sana’s thigh and grinding down on it. Sana’s grip tightens, a calloused thumb pressing into the flesh right below Arkady’s hip. She breaks the kiss, her gaze intent on Arkady. Her left hand skims the waistband of Arkady’s briefs before sliding up. It brushes against the bra Arkady forgot she’s still wearing. “Mind taking this off?”

Arkady sheds it easily, scowling at Sana. Sana shrugs guilelessly. “You know I like looking at you, Kady.”

Arkady definitely doesn’t squirm in response to that, nowhere for her body to go between Sana’s hands and thighs, only more of that pressure she needs. Then Sana’s hand does slip into her briefs, gathering the wetness from lower before sliding carefully around her aching clit with it. When Sana pushes a finger inside her, Arkady thinks, _finally_.

“How do you want things tonight?” asks Sana, her voice warm and low. The finger pulls out, its tip hovering at Arkady’s entrance.

“Why, is there a menu?” grumbles Arkady. It’s been a while since Sana’s asked, and maybe it’s because it’s been a while since they last slept together. But maybe it’s because Sana can tell she’s still off-kilter from the run-in at the bar, and that gnaws at Arkady. Not the telling - who would Sana be otherwise? That Arkady’s no good at getting over these things. She keeps her voice joking. “May I-”

Sana’s fingers thrust into her in a single motion, her thumb resting next to but not on Arkady’s clit. Arkady shudders around them, her train of thought almost lost.

“Bet you wish you could shut me up like this at crew meetings,” Arkady manages to get out.

“Never.”

It’s so sincere and sweet it should kill Arkady’s arousal. It’s so frickin Sana it does the opposite. It’s ridiculous. Arkady brings her mouth to meet Sana’s, the kiss as sloppy as her thoughts. Sana’s fingers don’t move. Her thumb barely brushes over Arkady’s clit, and Arkady shamelessly grinds down harder, getting those fingers deeper in her.

Sana reads off the answer to her question from Arkady’s body, that consistent traitor, slamming into her at a pace that might actually empty Arkady’s brain of anything other than the feeling of Sana’s fingers in her, Sana’s other hand holding her, the sight of Sana’s focused, patient eyes.

There’s that same glint in them, like Arkady’s a particularly tricky engine she needs to figure out. Not an honor Arkady deserves, but she’ll take it, put it up with all the others as long Sana’s keeps doing _that _with her hands. 

“You’ve done so well,” says Sana, leaving kisses along Arkady’s shoulder blades. “You took such good care of me, you always do.”

Arkady screws her eyes shut. It’s a dirty trick of Sana’s, saying these things when Arkady’s in no state to shoot off a witty rejoinder. It’s a dirty trick she lets (wants? hopes?) Sana play every time. Sana moves her deft fingers just so, and Arkady falls over the edge, Sana’s words flowing over and in her, from the ears they enter to the very tips of Arkady’s toes. 

Sana slips her fingers out but brings Arkady down against her thick thigh, the contact a shock for Arkady’s now sensitive body. “Fuck,” pants Arkady. Slick fingers tweak Arkady’s nipples. “Sana-”

“Could you come again? Like this?” Sana sounds as casually curious as she does when asking Arkady what she thinks of a job. That really shouldn’t be a turn on. Arkady’s hips rock forward in answer, rubbing against Sana’s firm thigh, and she nods against Sana’s neck.

The fingers start pinching in between the soothing circles they make. Sana keeps talking. “I’m always so impressed by you. Have I mentioned that lately? You’re doing such a good job.”

The words and movements layer on top of each other until Arkady finally comes again, her body slumping from relief, quivering from overstimulation. Sana’s hands are running soothingly along Arkady’s torso. 

Arkady rolls over till her back hits the mattress, her voice hazy. “I’m just going to reiterate my earlier point about kicking everyone off the ship.”

“I liked tonight too, Arkady,” says Sana wryly.

“Sana,” Arkady turns on to her side to look at Sana, who’s all steady shoulders and soft-eyed with affection. “Pretty sure we don’t need to affirm that we enjoy sleeping together.” Arkady drops her voice to a whisper. “That’s what the orgasms are for.”

Sana makes a small noise of acknowledgement, sliding down till she too is lying on her back. Arkady examines Sana. The slackness of her body, the lines of worry across her forehead, the uncharacteristic way she’s lapsed into silence again, the distant look in her eyes.

“What’s on your mind?” asks Arkady. She winces. “Please don’t tell me you’re thinking about my sister right after we have sex. I’m not sure my ego could take that.”

Sana turns to face her, the corner of her mouth twisting. “So, about that mysterious crush of yours on Cresswin-”

“I might actually prefer the sister conversation,” interrupts Arkady. “And nice try, Sana, but you don’t stare angstily at the ceiling before giving me crap.”

“Angstily?”

“That’s a word. I think.” 

“Probably.” Sana sighs. “I guess I was wondering if there was a better way.” 

She doesn’t need to say what for. Arkady comments, “Isn’t bemoaning chances not gotten usually my shtick?”

An amused look crosses Sana’s face. 

“Hey,” says Arkady, “I am, on rare occasion, capable of self-awareness.”

“Glad to hear it.” Sana’s gaze pins Arkady. “How are you feeling?”

Arkady schools her expression into one of self-satisfaction. “Like I just-”

“About what your sister said,” says Sana.

“They’re her kids. I get it.” Arkady means for the words to come out off-handedly. The effect is ruined by her scratchy voice. Dry throats are the worst. Sana’s eyes are bright as she listens, waiting for Arkady to continue.

Sana doesn’t know all the details of Arkady’s storied life. Nor does Arkady Sana’s. There are tales traded, of course, behind scars exposed, every stubborn opinion, but the two of them know each other in a way that feels truer to Arkady than a simple listing of the facts of their lives. 

Arkady can’t help but list some more. “She, um, she didn’t get assigned a job till she was eighteen, right? So she spent a lot of time looking after the rest of us.”

“You and your other siblings?” 

“Yeah. She’s the oldest.” Arkady swallows. It infuriates her, how many more years were stolen from Laila, and it infuriates her even more how calm Laila has always been about it, the way she talked about it at the bar like she’d have gladly stayed there longer. “She’d make sure we didn’t go anywhere that’d piss off the guards, that kinda stuff. So yeah, she gets to have an opinion on me, she half-raised me, whatever. But what she said about Cresswin? That’s bullshit.”

“It was a tradeoff,” says Sana. She doesn’t look regretful, only contemplative. 

Here’s the thing about Arkady and Cresswin. About Arkady and Cresswin and Sana. Arkady has this whole spiel about it in her head. It’s threaded through every thought she has about their disjointedly shared history. Honestly, Arkady’s surprised she hasn’t shot her mouth off about it yet.

(She’s not that surprised. For all the guff Arkady gives Sana about trusting people, Sana has always been more swayed by solid actions than pretty words.)

“I thought I’d die on Cresswin,” says Arkady. “I mean, I thought I’d die in a lot of places, but Cresswin was the first.” 

Sana’s eyes widen. Arkady keeps going, “Not like that, Sana, don’t make that face. It wasn’t because of the Dwarnians, or the uprising, or the hungry months in between. It wasn’t even because of the everyday shitty dangers of it.”

“I just-” Arkady carefully rests her palm against Sana’s face. Looks into those deep-set eyes. “I saw my whole life playing out on Cresswin, no matter how short or long it might be. That’s it, I thought. The Landers changed that. _You_ changed that.”

Arkady remembers the taste of hope in her fourteen-year-old self’s mouth, the giddiness in her heart, when all she could think about was getting to see the whole wide universe, and not the costs of getting there.

“I’m glad.” Sana’s face softens in a familiar pattern. “I am so proud to know you, and I’m still so sorry your sister said those things.”

Arkady blinks. “Did you turn around that entire conversation on me?” 

“Maybe,” says Sana. “And you’re deflecting again.”

“Maybe,” repeats back Arkady. “Are you surprised, Captain?”

“No.” Sana kisses her, her hand loosely wrapping around Arkady’s wrist. 

Arkady knows the subject is dropped for now. Sana’ll leave her time to think it over herself before prodding her again about it. Before prodding her specifically about this. Arkady anticipates an increase in generic “How are you doing?”s in the next few days. It’s a constant of Sana’s, the space she gives without leaving it barren.

Sana bumps her nose against Arkady’s. “You know, ‘Sana’ works fine too. Especially when we’re literally in bed together.” 

“But then I wouldn’t get the opportunity to go all _o captain, my captain_ on you, and where’s the fun in that?” Arkady turns Sana’s wrist around to leave a dramatic, soft kiss on the back of her hand. It’s half a surprise to her too whether it’s ‘Sana’ or ‘Captain’ or ‘Tripathi’ that slips out at any given moment. It is what it is. Besides, for all Sana disclaimed the title at the start, Arkady thinks there’s something in it that appeals to Sana. Long deserved respect, maybe. 

“You’ve never done that,” points out Sana, barely hidden mirth in her eyes.

“Don’t count me out yet.” Arkady yawns, loud and languorous. 

Sana nestles in against Arkady, pulling the covers over them both. It’s only when Sana’s fast asleep, softly snoring on Arkady’s chest that Arkady gives in to the heaviness of her own eyelids. Half-conscious, the rest of the poem comes to Arkady then. A safe ship. A captain endangered. In the strange logic that comes right before sleep, she finds herself grateful for the reverse that is her reality, her arm curling tight around Sana.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Title comes from this tumblr post: https://sharkodactyl.tumblr.com/post/149287479549
> 
> 2\. Violet mentions the "Mandate" in Episode 6 - canon has yet to define it, but given that an exemption from it was mentioned as a benefit of her war-time internship, I don't think a military draft is too far off as a guess.
> 
> 3\. The poem mentioned is, unsurprisingly "O Captain! My Captain!" by Walt Whitman, which can be read here: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45474/o-captain-my-captain


End file.
